


Howlin' For You

by LUCIFER_VLOGS



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: M/M, Smoking, catcalling and a failed mugging, dirk's part of the rowdy 3 kind of, is this the grease au ive been waiting for, no detective agency of any kind really, no pararibulitis, probs not - Freeform, robin hood shenanagins, this all is coming off pretty weird but this is also fluff?, todds in his band still, walking on a dark and lonely street
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2017-01-11
Packaged: 2018-09-16 18:18:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9284051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LUCIFER_VLOGS/pseuds/LUCIFER_VLOGS
Summary: Todd's band is playing the seediest bar imaginable, and Amanda needs to be walked to the nearest bus stop which is...not near at all. What could possibly go wrong? Well, with howling catcallers on the loose and even hungrier wolves in the shadows, its not looking good at all.Cue Robin Hood shenanigans, enter a British dude in a yellow jacket. Todd just wants to go home, but the stage isn't done with him yet.





	

Walking late at night in Seattle, or any city really, is always a bit of a gamble, but tonight the dogs are really out. For some reason, the bar Todd was playing at thought it was too cool for bus stops, which also made it too cool for safely leaving your sister to fend for herself and going off to have a fun night with your band mates.

Todd tries not to sigh, but really, every one of them paired off with a hot groupie-for-the-night the minute they stepped off the stage. Todd might have had a shot himself, if not for the place being a total and complete backwater that he had to walk Amanda home from, because his singer had already taken the van and a girl back to his place. And now, apparently, the neighbourhood’s also inhabited by only the grossest, loudest kind of dude.

Another one of the kind leans out of his car, maybe the tenth of the night. “Hey, baby, lose the shorty and come for a ride!” By his tone and his gratuitous use of eyebrows, Todd’s very aware that he doesn’t mean a trip in the nasty car.

“Fuck off!” Amanda yells at the already-receding lights, and a carful of laughter is her response. She kicks at a pebble on the sidewalk and pulls out a cigarette.

“Amanda-“ Todd starts, but she waves him off.

“If I start smoking now,” she reasons, “No more assholes will offer me a smoke.”

“No, they’ll just try to bum one from you.”

“I’ll say I’m all out.”

“Then they’ll probably try to mug you.” This is somehow hilarious, and they both burst out laughing, even though Amanda, despite her fire, is pretty small and Todd’s not much better. Probably worse, actually. His experience with fights have been minimal, as in, he’s never been able to actually remember much of them.

It’s not like he was watching with particular intensity before, but he notices that they’ve walked into a dark patch of sidewalk below a shattered streetlight. He immediately regrets the joke when he notices a hooded figure in the dark.

“Want a light, sweetie?” he asks, and, to Todd, this isn’t as laughable as catcalls on the street. There’s something more malicious to this stranger’s voice.

Amanda pulls out her fluorescent green lighter. “Thanks, but no thanks, I’m set,” she says with a forced casualness that indicates to Todd she’s also noticed the next level of creepy.

This is of course when Todd hears footsteps behind him. He turns to look and, yep, more creepies in hoodies. This is also when he marks that they’re all bald and tattooed. He grabs Amanda’s hand and makes to cross the street, fuck traffic, when a monster truck parks between them and the road.

“This is not happening,” Amanda whispers.

Another bald, inked guy leans out of the window of the truck and positively leers at them. Somebody jumps down from the bed of the truck holding a gun, not a pistol, it looks like it might be a fucking semi-automatic, and this is when Todd really starts to freak out.

“We don’t have any money,” he calls out, and the collective lot of them howl with laughter. When they’re done, the original guy with the light stands up. He practically bellows out the word, “WALLETS!” and they all have a good laugh again as Todd and his sister scramble to pull them out and toss them on the sidewalk in front of them.

“Todd,” Amanda whispers to him, “Todd, what are we going to do?”

“I,” Todd looks at her, “I don’t know.” Her face falls for a second, and then suddenly her eyes widen and her mouth falls open. Its scary, and its worse when he realizes she’s gawking at something behind him.

“What?” Todd asks, right before a van smashes into the truck beside them, blasting music that’s is nothing more than a jaw-rattling base line.

“WHAT THE FUCK?” Wallets guy screams, running towards his truck, the front of which for some reason has been crushed like a tin can, while the van…well, the van is all kinds of dented already, but looks otherwise looks pretty much okay from a head on crash. The guy goes up to the driver’s door, looking for all intents and purposes like he’s going to kill someone very soon. Todd thinks about making a run for it while he’s distracted. This is when the door explodes outwards, slams into Wallets and sends him flying into the brick wall on the other side of the sidewalk. There’s a moment of silence as the music cuts, while a guy with skunk-like facial hair steps almost daintily out of the no-longer-door and howls like a wolf.

“IT’S THE ROWDY 3!” someone screams, and Todd see’s the guy with the semi aim. He grabs Amanda and they run. The music starts up again behind them, accompanied by clangs, a popping that Todd’s terrified is gunfire, screams and yet more howling. As he pushes Amanda down an alleyway, he catches a glimpse of the commotion behind him. What he sees doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, but if he had to describe it he’d say that maybe 5 punk rock guys are non fatally beating the shit out of a bunch of gang members, gang members who are armed with guns and- he thinks- a harpoon?

He slips into the alley behind Amanda and listens. It takes a few minutes, but suddenly he hears a sound like a very sick cat followed by a large engine catching. From the alley, they see the truck-now stuffed with terrified looking bald dudes- speeding past, not looking like they’ll be back any time soon. They squeal around the corner and off into the night, and that’s it. Todd almost wants to laugh but settles for a relieved sigh.

“Uh, Todd,” Amanda pokes him, “Those other guys? Unless they’ve moved, they’re still standing over our wallets.”

“Fuck,” Todd breathes out. Of course it couldn’t be that simple. He hadn’t lied to the gang; he had no money on him. But both he and Amanda had bus passes, and she definitely had cash. They could go back to the club, but if their friends were gone they’d be regulated to asking around for change until they could make bus fare. Not exactly ideal in this neighbourhood at 3am. He hears laughter from the sidewalk behind them, and a sound that might be high fives.

“We really got those bald fuckers!”

“Did you see them run?”

“Forget that, did you see their car?”

“I heard it!” Somebody tries to imitate the truly horrible noise the engine had made and Todd has to quickly cover Amanda’s mouth because she is _laughing_.

“These guys seem pretty chill,” she whispers, “I think we could literally just go out and ask for our wallets back.”

“Are you crazy? It sounds like they’re in some kind of turf war with that other gang. They could be just as bad!”

“Todd, seriously? Its three guys as opposed to the ten that tried to mug us. If anything, we can run for it.”

Todd frowns. “I saw five guys, not three.”

“I heard the bald guys yell ‘rowdy three’ not ‘rowdy five’,” Amanda says with a smirk.

“Okay, but did you see anything?”

“Nope,” she smiles, “I guess we’ll just have to check it out and see.”

“Amanda, _no_.”

“Hey!” one of the guys yells, like he’s found something, and both Todd and Amanda immediately freeze, “I think those two kids dropped their wallets.”

“Dropped?” Amanda says, incredulous.

“Kids?” Todd says in the same tone.

“Don’t take them!” someone scolds, followed by the sound of the wallets hitting the ground, again.

“I’m just checking if they have any contact information!” someone else says, high-pitched and defensive, “Do you know what the nearest bank is? I think you can leave them there and, if it’s the right one, they’ll contact their customer.”

This new guy sounds, to Todd, altogether less scary and more…British. Amanda’s looking at him with an eyebrow raised like she’s thinking the same thing. About the scare factor. But maybe about the accent, too.

“I found a lighter,” one guy says.

“Whoa! Awesome colour!” There’s a murmur of agreement.

Amanda is grinning now. “Todd,” she says, “These sound like very helpful men with extremely good taste in lighters. We should just go out and get our stuff, say thanks for saving our money, maybe our lives-”

“Amanda, I really don’t know about this. It could be some kind of setup, like they know we’re here and trying to lure us out,” Todd could go on, but he hears something.

“Hey!” British guy exclaims again, “I found a phone number in this one.”

“Oh, fuck,” Todd whispers, scrambling to grab his phone and turn it on silent. Amanda is quietly laughing at him as he finally gets a hold of the thing and-

 _You are never gonna get everything you want in this world…_ A pop anthem he shamefully loves enough to have as his ringtone blasts out of the cursed device in his hand. Amanda is no longer laughing quietly. She steps around Todd and waves from the alley.

“Hi!” she yells over the ringtone. Todd sighs, cancels the call and walks out beside her. There are five guys, he was right, and they’re all wearing leather, in various states of disarray and looking very, very confused. British guy is the only one not wearing full black, with an obnoxiously canary-yellow leather jacket. Todd knows it’s him because he’s holding a phone to his confused face.

“Hi!” he yells back, regaining his composure and smiling in a way that seems altogether too innocent for a gang member, or whatever he is. Todd notices that where the other guys look punk and scruffy, this guy looks like some kind of 50s greaser, straight out of, well, Grease. His auburn hair is picture perfect, slicked to the side in a way that screams ‘effortless’-that-took-an-hour-in-the-mirror.

The other guys look a bit more wary of them, but Amanda doesn’t seem to care. She practically skips down the sidewalk, Todd has to walk embarrassingly briskly to keep up. Todd stops a respectful distance away, but Amanda busts right into their group, bends over and picks up her wallet.

“Awesome,” she says while pocketing it, “Thank you guys so much. That was without a doubt the coolest thing I’ve ever seen. Well, not exactly seen, because I was running away and trying not to get shot at the time, but anyways.” She gives them a thumbs up and a grin. “Big fan of your punk rock Robin Hood deal.”

British guy is still grinning, it’s only getting wider, how is that not painful, and the other guys have stopped looking suspicious and instead look sort of charmed. The youngest smiles at her and offers out her lighter.

“Thanks! You know, I heard you guys complimenting its colour. You obviously have an eye for quality. Do you want smokes?” she asks, pulling out a pack, and Todd honestly feels a little bit betrayed.

“Fuck yeah,” the guy with the skunk hair says, and all of a sudden they’re friends.

“I’m Amanda,” she says as she passes out the smokes, and the group chimes back with some names that Todd can’t tell if are nicknames, last names, or what.

“Vogel!”

“Cross”

“Gripps”

“I’m Martin,” There’s a silence, before skunk guy elbows the British guy, who has just been standing there smiling in Todd and Amanda’s direction. Todd frowns at him. “Dirk?” Martin prompts.

“Oh! I’m Dirk, Dirk Gently,” he says, positively bouncing on his toes. _This guy,_ Todd thinks, _What is his deal?_

“Dirk, maybe you should give the guy his wallet back,” Martin prompts.

“Oh!” Dirk exclaims again, before handing it to Todd, looking a painful mix of embarrassed and excited. _Maybe he doesn’t get out much,_ Todd thinks when the eye contact goes on for a while.

He decides he’ll bite. “I’m Todd,” he says, and nods to the group.

“I know,” the Dirk guy says, still smiling infuriatingly, “I read on your driver’s license.”

Todd’s facial response to that must be pretty entertaining, because the group begins to laugh hysterically.

“You’re such a creep!” Vogel yells at him.

Cross nods, “Really creepy, dude, real creepy.”

“Sorry,” Dirk’s smile is more sheepish this time.

“It’s, uh, okay,” Todd says, although he’s pretty uncomfortable, just in general by the situation. Its sort of dawning on him how weird, really weird this whole thing is and he realizes he doesn’t want to be out on the streets a second longer than necessary. “Amanda, don’t you think we should be getting home?”

Amanda looks at him quizzically before taking a moment and realizing he’s pretty shaken up. “Yeah, yeah we should, bro,” she says, looking for a place to stub out her cigarette. Cross holds out a leather-gloved hand to use as an ashtray, which she uses after muttering, “So punk,” under her breath.

“Bro?” Dirk asks, and Todd’s anxiety is almost drowned out by his annoyance. _So_ that’s _why he’s staring_ , he realizes.

“Yeah,” Amanda answers as she puts her half cigarette back in the box, “Todd, my resident brother.”

“Oh, you’re siblings. That’s nice. Great, actually. Siblings are great. Never had one myself but they sound…great.”

Todd would think it’s out of the frying pan and into the fire with all the catcallers tonight, but Dirk, although really obviously hitting on Amanda, doesn’t seem as threatening as the last ten. Also, the guy is fawning more than he is flirting. It’s almost sweetly pathetic enough to distract Todd from the gaping chasm of fear that’s recently opened up shop in his brain. _At least he’s good looking,_ he thinks, loath to remember the dudes uglier than their cars.

“Will you folks be alright in the neighbourhood? Parked nearby?” Martin asks, and his drawl makes the questions come off concerned rather than creepy. Todd’s never been more thankful for a calming accent.

“No-o,” Amanda replies, “We’re just off to the bus stop, shouldn’t be too long now. My brother has a car but a friend took it earlier tonight.”

She looks at him, and he just shrugs, not trusting himself to say anything. In hindsight, he’s wishing he strangled his singer with a mic cord, but that could be the overwhelming anxiety talking. _I really need to get out of here,_ he thinks.

“We could give you a ride,” Dirk offers, and the other four chime in with affirmatives.

“That’s really nice of you,” Todd cuts in before Amanda can agree, “But you’ll have to forgive me for not wanting to get into your van.”

“Todd!” she hits his arm.

“I mean, you just slammed it head-on into a truck. It could be damaged. It could be totalled.” It really doesn’t look that way, aside from the missing door, but sue him if he’s looking for the easy way out. The part of him that just wants to be home is protesting that a car is faster, while the part of him that doesn’t want to die is yelling that getting in that car is a one-way trip to the grave.

Martin shrugs. “If that’s your only qualm,” he says, before strutting over to the thing, leaning in and starting up the engine. Compared to the noise the other gang’s truck made, it sounds five star.

“Awesome!” Amanda says, predictably. But she turns back to Todd and looks at him searchingly before committing. “Is this what you want to do?” she asks, and Todd’s suddenly grateful to have her with him, as opposed to annoyed he had to walk her here in the first place.

“Yeah,” he tells her, “I know you’ve wanted to get in that stupid rocker van since it crashed in here.”

“It is a lot cooler than your rocker van,” she says, before turning back to the rockers in question and yelling, “Road trip!”

 

Todd wouldn’t go so far as to describe the inside of the van as ‘clean’ but it’s not quite as horrific as he’d imagined. Somehow he’s scored the shotgun seat, and he figures as long as he doesn’t open the glove compartment, he’ll survive. Amanda, of course, dove into the back with the rest of the boys, save Martin, who is driving with more caution than Todd expected. The night’s full of surprises. The guy who howls is the least brutish of the night.

Amanda has fit herself right in with this bunch of misfits, regaling them with tales of nights past. Todd cranes his neck around to see into the backseat, which is just open space, no seats in sight, save cardboard boxes.

“So, anyways, I’m at one of Todd’s shows, not as bad as tonight but pretty bad for douchey guys. This one dude grabs my ass and I was so drunk I didn’t even think before decking him in the face. God, it was the most badass thing I’ve ever done and it was like, maybe 1% as cool as anything I saw tonight.”

“That sounds pretty sick,” Vogel defends her to herself, but Amanda just swipes her hand like she’s erasing what he’s saying.

“Uh, you were there. You saw Martin kick the door off his own fucking car,” she says, indicating the gaping hole pumping wind into the van. It’s a little hard to hear anything, for Todd, and the angle is sort of hard on his neck, so he just gives up on following along and watches the lights go by. It’s not the worst possible ending to the night by far. Just when Todd feels like he might relax again, he feels a tap on his shoulder.

“What did she mean by one of your shows?” Dirk half-yells into Todd’s ear, forcing him to turn again towards the back.

“I’m in a band,” he says, and Dirk’s mouth becomes a little ‘o’ of delighted surprise. Todd’s noticed that the guy’s face is like an over exaggerated mask that changes with each emotion. Its not hiding anything, he thinks, its just really expressive. Probably the most honest thing there is, actually.

“What do you play?” he asks, turning away from Amanda’s conversation entirely and leaning so that he’s almost in the front seat with Martin. It helps the angle Todd’s neck does to look at him, so he’s not complaining.

“Guitar,” Todd says, and now starts to suspect Dirk’s going to ask him for Amanda’s hand in marriage because honestly, no one can be _that_ excited about a mere acquaintance’s music career.

“Are you guys any good? Objectively, of course, I mean I’m sure you think you are and I’m sure really are, as well, so I’m not sure why I’m even asking. Just trying to make conversation. What does one even ask someone in a band? What are the intricacies of band life?” Todd will have to be forgiven if he shows some sign of shock at some street demon using the word ‘one’ when asking him about his band. He shakes it off, trying to remember something about his life that might interest this contradictory guy.

“Well, I’m in charge of equipment, so I get electrocuted, like, a fair amount.”

“Sounds dangerous.”

“I wouldn’t say dangerous, its just something that happens when I’m not paying attention to what I’m doing, which is a lot, I guess.”

“Fascinating,” Dirk smiles, like hearing Todd’s bland ass electrocution blues are the light of his life. He supposes he shouldn’t judge, they might be for all he knows about the guy. “If you don’t mind me asking,” he asks, brushing auburn hair out of his eyes, “You and your sister were walking back from one of the seediest bars imaginable. I can’t help but notice that doesn’t exactly scream celebrity status on your part. Do you have another job?”

Probably because of the night, and because the guy is right, Todd answers with a fair amount of defensiveness. “Bellhop,” he mutters.

“Bellhop by day, rockstar by night,” Dirk says with a bit of awe, before repeating, “Fascinating.”

“What about you? Is this really a Robin Hood deal or are you some kind of something-by-day too?”

“Oh, the Rowdy 3 don’t believe in jobs. Or money. Or American capitalism in general.”

Todd frowns. “So… you’re communists? Do you have a commune?”

“Not communists, I think anarchists is the label they prefer. And no, no commune, just the van.” Dirk is smiling, but Todd can’t help but notice how he speaks as if he’s slightly removed from the gang. It’s no longer just that his jacket clashes with the colour scheme. Dirk comes off a bit…lonely. Which doesn’t fit for someone who apparently lives in a van with four other guys. He looks away, and Todd watches the shadows of the streetlights play across his face. For some reason he’s curious about this stranger in the yellow jacket, odd one out in a group that’s name is already a person short. Dirk closes his eyes as if steeling himself and then turns back to Todd. His mouth is twisted in a self-conscious way, like he wants to say something but can’t bear to let it escape his lips. It’s quite cute, when Todd thinks about it. Too bad this is the moment.

This is the moment Dirk asks if Amanda would be interested in him. Todd supposes it’s not the worst thing to happen to him. He can stand one last flubbed attempt to hit on his sister tonight. He guesses he wishes Dirk could just chill and put a lid on the feelings dump until Todd’s gone, but he gets the feeling that Dirk is not one to do that, ever.

“Todd,” Dirk takes a deep breath, “I know we’ve literally just met, but do you think, possibly, that-”

“I’ve no idea where the fuck I am,” Martin interrupts gruffly from the other side of Dirk’s head, “What’s your address again?”

Dirk scrambles to turn towards Martin and there’s a pause as Todd assumes a non-verbal battle of wills is occurring or something. Dirk ends up popping into the backseat without another word, and Todd is left to direct Martin home. He’s relieved he didn’t have to explain his sister’s relationship status to a near stranger, but he’s disappointed, somehow, too. Dirk somehow manages to be a bad conversationalist but good company at the same time. Todd watches the streets fly by and tries to just forget about it.

 

Martin wasn’t nearly as mixed up as he let on, so the van putters to a stop in front of Todd and Amanda’s apartment building in no time at all. Just like that, the adventure’s over, they’re out of the forest with the fuck ton of wolves, and, damn, is Todd going to have a good story to use to guilt trip the fuck out of his useless band. Amanda gets out and offers another round of cigs, so everybody else gets out too. Todd is just undoing his seatbelt when Martin grabs his collar and pulls him half across the stick shift to look him straight in the eye. So much for the adventure being over for the night.

“Oh god, please don’t kill me,” Todd gasps out.

“Listen to me, kid. I’m not going to kill you,” Martin growls, “But I will if you unduly hurt that boy.”  
“Dirk?” Todd manages to speak past the anxiety currently attempting to lodge in his trachea.

“Yeah. He’s good. Don’t be cruel.”

“Cruel? I’m just going to tell him Amanda’s single and not interested, and I’m not going to lie about that.”

Martin frowns and then comes to some sort of quiet epiphany, then lets him go. “You are one unobservant asshole,” he says, and then grins.

“Okay,” Todd says, before opening the door and leaping out of that van because, damn it, his life really does seem to depend on it.

For some reason, Amanda and the boys have parked themselves in the exact centre of the street to smoke. Dirk stands just aside, and from behind Todd notices that there’s a decal on the yellow jacket. As he gets closer, he can make out a falling, winged man made up of thousands of colours of string. He can’t tell if it’s a patch or embroidered directly into the leather, but its stunning, whatever it is. _Icarus_ , he thinks, remembering the name of a Greek myth, but not the story. Obviously not one with a happy ending. Amanda’s noticed Todd coming and says goodbye to her new friends. Todd gives them a nod as he passes them to meet her in the middle.

“Let’s go home,” he tells her, but she’s smiling and shaking her head.

“Oh, no. You’ve been through a lot tonight, but I’m not letting you walk away from this.”

Todd wishes he had no idea what she’s talking about, but she jogs away towards the building before he can even respond. _Yes, please let me walk away from telling another asshole ‘no’ for you while I get nothing at all, all night long._

“Todd?”

That’s the ticket.

Todd turns around, and realizes just how needlessly dramatic this is. The other three are back in the van, and Todd and Dirk are the only two outside. They’re still standing, unsafely, in the middle of the road. Dirk’s illuminated by the streetlight like some kind of badly dressed Christ figure, about to get fucking crucified.

Todd realizes he doesn’t want to do this. Not only is it awkward, uncomfortable and all that, but he likes Dirk. He’s honest, naïve, and seems like the kind of guy to pass around his heart on a platter, and Todd doesn’t want to break the whole thing in half. Martin told him not to be cruel, so he guesses he should just go into it, but he can’t. He’s almost physically unable to speak. The spotlight is on Dirk, after all.

“I was wondering. I know you must be busy with your two jobs and music and life, but I was wondering.”

Todd doesn’t know what he has to do with this wondering. He suddenly has a creeping suspicion he’s missed a fundamental piece of the night’s puzzle.

“I was wondering,” Dirk repeats, and Todd’s on tenterhooks, wondering right along with him, “if at some point you might be able to make time to have coffee with me?”

_Oh._

Everything’s a bit clearer now.

Todd’s gut reaction is to laugh it off and say no, but that’s definitely under Martin’s definition of cruel. But really, what about this isn’t funny? The whole night Todd’s been cockblocked whilst simultaneously seeing every genre of douche hit on his sister. Now, this. This gorgeous, greaser fucker is asking him out for coffee after beating the shit out of his would-be mugger. _The only real question to ask is, am I Sandra Dee or Maria?_

Todd’s worried if he doesn’t stop thinking about how funny it is, he’ll notice how perfect it is. The stage is set. He’s been so worried about Amanda that he’s been caught completely and totally off guard. He’s got no time to overthink.

And then there’s Dirk, looking at him with just a shred of hope in those baby blues. He’s hot, Todd thought that from the moment he turned the corner to see his British phone caller. But he’s more than that, its apparent even from talking with him for a car ride home. _He’s good_ , Martin had said. Good and gorgeous and looking at him now, waiting.

“Yeah,” Todd says without thinking the word, even. “I’d really like that.”

Dirk lights up like the sun, smile as bright as his jacket, and Todd feels a camaraderie with the falling guy on the back of his jacket.

“Can I have your number?”

“You already do, from earlier.”

“Knew that would come in handy.” And then Dirk is walking towards him, and Todd doesn’t know what’s happening but he’s walking too. Dirk’s practically skipping, and Todd has to bite back a laugh, and then they’re standing together in the middle of the street.

“I don’t know what I was planning on doing when I got here,” Dirk admits, but he must have had some idea because he reaches out and takes Todd’s hand. Their fingers lace together and Todd can’t help but watch. He’s looking down, so he doesn’t notice Dirk step closer. When he looks up again, Dirk’s face is close, and it only takes the space of a breath to close the distance with a kiss. It’s not long, it’s not particularly fireworks, but the feeling of Dirk’s lips on his for just a moment sends a spark through Todd, and that’s enough. He sighs against Dirk’s mouth.

“There’s not much more we can do in the middle of the street,” Todd says, and he doesn’t mean it to sound how it must, because Dirk is blushing.

“Is that an invitation?” he manages.

Todd finally laughs and Dirk smiles too, even if he doesn’t quite get the cosmic joke that’s been his night.

“I have to work tomorrow,” Todd tells him. Dirk steps back with more than a hint of disappointment. Todd’s sympathetic. The second Dirk’s hand slides out of his, he wants to snatch it back. _“Sounds dangerous.”_ Words from earlier in the night echo back to him. He can’t help but agree.

“Goodnight, Todd.”

“Goodnight, Dirk.”

Todd starts to walk away, and when he reaches the door of the apartment building and looks back, Dirk hasn’t moved from his spot in the middle of the road. He smiles when their eyes meet.

“When does your shift end?” Dirk calls after him. It’s the best one of the night.

Todd smiles too, before calling back the answer and going inside. He’s got three texts by the time he’s at his floor, but if he’s honest, he expected nothing less.

**Author's Note:**

> i'd like to thank the black keys for the song that inspired this fic and also i'd like to thank god for max landis. this could get a sequel, if anybody's interested in this vaguely crack au
> 
> my tumblr is rhaegar-targayryen if you have any questions bout this one, or Happy Ending, or anything else i do in the future
> 
> thanks for reading!


End file.
